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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24496261">The Fourth of July</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahJeanne/pseuds/hannahJeanne'>hannahJeanne</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1950s, Cold War spies in a neutral country, Cynthia only appears like once, Fourth of July, M/M, but she’s mentioned a couple times, early Cold War, kinda really short-, owen’s sort of insecure about his jaw, spies are forever - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:08:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,315</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24496261</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahJeanne/pseuds/hannahJeanne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The US is holding a 4th of July party for Western Bloc politicians, American allies, and anti-communists from neutral countries. Curt and Owen are required to attend, and this is where they meet for the first time. Curt can’t speak French. Owen lends a hand.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Fourth of July</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Owen was a man of taste. He knew this. It sort of came with the territory, being a British spy and all, but he was more sophisticated than many. He had a reputation to uphold.</p>
<p>Curt was an American. Loud, headstrong, and egotistical. He was… less sophisticated. Not quite as classy. He also had a reputation to uphold, but he did not live up to it.</p>
<p>Or, that was what Owen had thought when he’d first met Curt Mega.</p>
<p>They’d met while working on a mission in France in the beginning of the Cold War. July 4th, 1950. Some very important political figures, mostly Americans, French anti-communists, and Western Bloc countrymen, were having a “Gala for the American Allies.” A Fourth of July party of sorts. There were going to be leaders from the United Kingdom, Norway, Denmark, the Netherlands, Belgium, France, and Italy. Most countries spoke some variation of French, and at least a quarter of the attendees were citizens of France, so that was the decided neutral language.</p>
<p>MI6 and the American Secret Service were working together to make sure nothing went wrong, especially considering they had heard rumors that Beijing would have spies attending the gala as well. This meant that they had their two best spies on the mission: Owen Carvour and Curt Mega.</p>
<p>Owen had heard about Mega. His superiors had told many stories about the famous Curt Mega and how he was one of the greatest spies they’d ever met. Owen had also met a few times with Cynthia Houston, Mega’s director. She spoke fondly of him like he was her own flesh and blood. That was the sign of a good spy, when a director as stone-faced as Cynthia spoke of the spy in question like her son. He was rather excited to meet him, actually. Owen was curious to see if the great Curt Mega was really all that and a bag of crisps.</p>
<p>The night finally came that Owen was to meet Mr. Mega at the gala. Owen found himself walking around quite aimlessly, chatting with the occasional politician in whatever variety of French the leader happened to speak, or their native language if he knew what it was. Eventually he got bored of the small talk and went to the bar for a drink.</p>
<p>In choppy English, the French bartender asked Owen what she could get for him.</p>
<p>“I speak French,” He replied in the aforementioned language.</p>
<p>The bartender seemed delighted by this and immediately looked ten times more comfortable. She asked again, in French this time, “What can I get you, sir?”</p>
<p>“Vodka tonic, please.”</p>
<p>She nodded and got to work. After less than a minute she placed a full glass in front of him. A lime was set on the rim. “Vodka tonic.”</p>
<p>He set down a five. “Thank you, dear, keep the change.”</p>
<p>The woman smiled and thanked him. Owen nodded back and turned to look for his director. Just as he spotted him, however, he heard a commotion down at the other end of the bar. A man, seemingly American judging by the accent of his English, was trying to order a glass of whiskey from a bartender who clearly did not speak English. Owen walked over to help.</p>
<p>In French, he ordered a whiskey on the rocks for the man. The bartender understood the confusion and apologized for the mixup before pouring the drink.</p>
<p>The American turned around. “Thank you,” he said.</p>
<p>Owen nodded and replied, “No problem.” He took a sip of his vodka tonic.</p>
<p>The other held out his hand. “Curt Mega.”</p>
<p>This caused Owen to nearly spit out his drink. “You’re Curt Mega?” He shook Curt’s hand. “Owen Carvour.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I was supposed to be looking for you!”</p>
<p>“Same here. I’m sorry, you’re the Curt Mega from ASS, correct?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, who else?”</p>
<p>“Right, sorry. I just would have expected the USA’s best spy to speak a lick of French, especially considering we’re in France.”</p>
<p>Curt frowned. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ve already heard that from several people today.” He looked the Brit up and down. “So you’re Owen Carvour, huh? I would have expected you to be hotter.”</p>
<p>Owen almost choked on his vodka again. He didn’t like that Curt kept catching him off-guard. “Pardon?”</p>
<p>In a poor imitation of Owen, Curt said, “I just would have expected the UK’s best spy to be a little more attractive.”</p>
<p>Owen feigned offense. “Why, I never! At least I had a valid argument, you’re just being mean.”</p>
<p>Curt grinned, which caused Owen to smile slightly. He immediately stopped, however, all of the sudden becoming very conscious of his crooked jaw. He didn’t like what this Curt Mega was doing to him. Owen didn’t usually meet spies on the job that had such cute smiles.</p>
<p>Wait a second.</p>
<p>Did he just think of Curt’s smile as cute?</p>
<p>He metaphorically shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He wasn’t supposed to think of other spies that way, especially not spies that work for other organizations.</p>
<p>Owen realized Curt had stopped grinning. “What?” He asked.</p>
<p>“You were smiling,” came the reply.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, is that a problem?”</p>
<p>“No, no, you were smiling. But you stopped.”</p>
<p>“Yes, so did you.”</p>
<p>“Why did you stop?”</p>
<p>“That’s none of your concern.”</p>
<p>“Isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“No, it really isn’t.”</p>
<p>Curt leaned forward and rested his cheek on his hand. “Why not?”</p>
<p>“I don’t have to justify why I wasn’t smiling.”</p>
<p>“Well, you do if it’s my fault.”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t your fault, Mega.”</p>
<p>“Just call me Curt, please.”</p>
<p>“Fine. It wasn’t your fault, Curt.”</p>
<p>“That’s better. So, if it’s not my fault, whose is it?”</p>
<p>“Mine? In your words, who else?”</p>
<p>“Funny.”</p>
<p>“I know, I’m a charmer aren’t I?”</p>
<p>“Don’t let it go to your head, Carvour.”</p>
<p>Automatically, the British spy said, “Owen, love.”</p>
<p>“Excuse me?”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Did you just call me love?”</p>
<p>Owen made a small “o” shape with his mouth. “It appears I did. Don’t lose your shirt over it, I call everyone dear or love.”</p>
<p>Curt nodded and smiled.</p>
<p>The two spies spent the rest of the night drinking and talking, barely keeping an eye on the party like they were supposed to be doing. By the end of the night, it was clear the two were already close. They’d shifted quite a great deal closer to one another (in the physical sense) over the course of the party, and by the stroke of eleven they were close enough to occasionally bump shoulders or arms or legs. Every time this happened they’d both go silent for a second. Owen felt awkward when he accidentally touched Curt because he was almost certain the other spy was catching on to his attraction and thought the touches were on purpose. Owen wasn’t even sure Curt played for his team, or even supported people like Owen.</p>
<p>This question was answered, however, during the fireworks when Cynthia came over to say a quick goodbye to Owen and Curt, and told them they were both free to leave as well.</p>
<p>After she was gone Curt turned to Owen. “You wanna get out of here?” He asked. “My room or yours, either’s fine.”</p>
<p>Owen hesitated. Did he mean in the sense that Owen was hoping for?</p>
<p>This hesitation caused Curt to immediately become defensive. “Oh. Oh my god, I’m sorry, are you not… I’m so sorry, I thought you were into-”</p>
<p>At this, Owen finally laughed and smiled for the first time that evening. “Yes, I am. And I would very much like to get out of here. My room’s in an entire other section of the hotel, away from my supervisors, so nobody will see us.” He held out an arm to Curt once he made sure nobody was watching. “Shall we?”</p>
<p>Curt looked incredibly relieved. He smiled as well. “We shall. And Owen?”</p>
<p>“Yes, love?”</p>
<p>“Your smile is stunning.”</p>
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